just a friendly reminder that we are closer to 2017 than 2007
“Kurt decides to spend christmas by himself in a cosy cottage in England. The last thing he expects is to meet single father Blaine.”
i would be the sort of person that would be trying to pick a name for a baby and everyone would be saying “~*~ don’t worry ~*~ you’ll have it and it’ll just come to you, you know?” and then i’ll have it and everything would be silent and it would just be me and the dude i’d blackmailed into having the spawn with and he’d just breathe out a name and i’d turn around and go “no”
(Drawings 4 and 5 of 6.)
does anyone else ever get really stressed over assignments and know that you should be doing them but you feel like you physically can’t stop procrastinating and that just stresses you out even more or is that just me
“So that’s why you wanted to come back for your fiftieth.”
Blaine can still blush. “I remembered that as being much more thoughtful and coherent than it was.”
“Hush.” Kurt takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “I thought it was lovely. And a nice reminder that we avoided a cyborg apocalypse: that’s always a plus.”
“Sam and I read a lot of comic books that year, as I remember. A lot.”
Kurt smiles. He’s got all sorts of wrinkles and crow’s-feet that eighteen year old Blaine couldn’t even have imagined, but now Blaine thinks he’s more beautiful than ever. Distinguished, even. Wait, could you be distinguished and beautiful?
Blaine shakes himself out of this line of thinking as they turn the corner at New McKinley High and walk past the open doors to the cafeteria. There’s a terrarium to one side with an herb garden, and all the chairs have the iridescent sheen of bioplastic. It’s so much nicer than it used to be.
“I do have one question,” Kurt says. “Tom Hardy?”
Blaine smirks. “Jealous?”
“I don’t even remember what Tom Hardy looked like. Of course I’m not jealous. I’m concerned about your taste level. Is it possible, all this time, I’ve been with a man with bad taste in crush objects?”
“I’ll show you Inception on the ride home,” Blaine says. “Trust me, you’ll remember.”
Kurt looks skeptical. “And… second husband? Are you a secret polygamist, Blaine? Or were you planning on leaving me?”
Blaine makes a show of looking shocked. “Never! I was just thinking, you know, if you died…”
Kurt’s eyebrows go up.
“You know, tragically and beautifully, like in Rent…”
“I’m listening,” Kurt says.
“I would mourn for you epically, of course….”
“You do look good in black.”
“But then, after a reasonable period of time, I would meet Tom Hardy, and after we had a lot of sex, we’d realize we were good together, and get married.”
“With a big beautiful picture of me up at the reception, so everyone would remember who your real true love was.”
“That might be a little over the top.” Blaine winks. “I’ll take a note, though, let eighteen year old me consider it.”
“You’d better. After all, I am the love of your life.”
“I thought I was the love of your life.”
Kurt shrugs. “Same difference.”
And for the first time in fifty years, Blaine leans over and kisses Kurt Hummel in the hallways of McKinley High. It’s just like he remembers it.
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more